


Judas Touch

by spiteandalice



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Angry Sex, F/M, Lots of Angry Sex, Main Character POV, Snark, emotional slow burn i guess, features a lot of violent thoughts, frenemies with benefits trope because i can, sarcasm kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-17 04:26:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14825210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiteandalice/pseuds/spiteandalice
Summary: It is a nice, cold winter day in Chicago when Mina returns from the dead. She was captured by Factionless during a routine trip as a representative for Dauntless and, after months, presumed dead.A few things have changed in her absence, but her interesting relationship with Eric hasn't. Mostly.





	1. Still Counting

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first foray into Divergent fiction. I started posting on Tumblr ages ago and always meant to post on here, but then life happened.
> 
> I don't own Divergent or any of the characters in this story except for Mina, and I wish I didn't. I'm just one of those random weirdos who sneak in at night trying to repair a few plot holes while opening fifteen new ones.
> 
> Title is from the song by Mark Lanegan with the same name.

_Put out the lions and close the door_  
I need you more  
Than I did before 

_Old Jack's been killed and buried away_  
Let's hang alone  
Outside the gate 

_Flames scare the lions as do their dreams_  
That's the way it'll always be  
Better close the door  
That's the way it'll always be  
Better close the door 

_Some fools forever don't ask for much_  
With frozen hand, calm Judas touch  
Some towers of fire can be redeemed  
Just let me burn  
High worlds away 

 

 

In my few years on this planet I haven’t seen many winters that could compare to this one, the temperatures so low it feels like a punch to the chest every time you walk outside. Having all the moisture in your nose freeze up every time you breathe in is quite something to behold. It doesn’t stop me from hanging off the side of the first armored truck in our convoy, the one that found me on a routine patrol, peering through the blindingly white streets ahead at what I have called home all my life, even if it’s a miserable cavern full of loud idiots. My faction still houses the best kind of idiots because Dauntless are by far the most tolerable of the bunch. The snow actually helps to improve the city, it covers the ruins and manages to let even the usually depressing wastelands look almost pretty.

Not that I care.

There is a commotion up ahead, and I can’t help but smile at the warm welcome as a group of disheveled Factionless come shambling out of a street in an attempt to attack us. I guess my reputation has suffered greatly in the past four months, but I guess being presumed dead does that to you.

They are mostly unarmed, a few are swinging pipes and other blunt objects in our direction, meaning to look threatening I guess, and I descend from my spot by the driver’s door, smiling. I take a few steps towards them, still smiling. My height alone is supposedly enough to impress, even if they don’t recognize me. 5′11 is mighty tall for a woman, and everything about my clothes is meant to accentuate that, not that I could really conceal it somehow. My black coat reaches down to my ankles and would be restricting if it wasn’t for the four slits on the sides, front and back, allowing me enough leg room to climb, run and kick. Or slowly stride towards a bunch of bumbling idiots who dare to delay my glorious return to the living. Clearly confused some of them back away, until I’m close enough to make out some of their grubby faces. One in the front bears a tattoo on his head that looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. He stares at my bruised face for a moment before his brain can process whatever info it provides to him.

“Oh shit. It’s her! It’s Mina!”

Ah, a former dauntless. It warms the spot where my heart is supposed to be that he recognizes and instantly fears me. Clever boy.

For a moment they are all silent, some exchange looks, then they start to run. I laugh, wholeheartedly enjoying their reaction, while I pull two guns from their holsters slung across my shoulders and start firing at them. Out of the fifteen only seven make it back to their rat hole. I’m obviously very rusty.

Banging my fist on the hood of the truck is the driver’s signal to continue on, we are moments away from the compound and I would like to get back inside, have a shower and reconnect with old friends.

All three of them.

There is a lot of bustling as we approach, looks like a delivery from Amity is unloaded right now and it has transformed the place into an anthill that I’m usually tempted to light on fire with a huge looking glass, but not today. I’m feeling very generous. A lot of black figures are running around carrying things, only one is standing in the middle, almost motionless. His head is turned towards us but there is not even the slightest sign of any kind of emotion visible in his rigid stance, hands folded behind his back, ever the leader. I smirk and jump off, slowly making my way towards him, limping slightly because my ankle is sprainex. When I am not more than ten feet away he barks at someone to his left, without so much as turning his head that way, and the hapless guy who dared to slow down hastily runs towards the truck to grab another crate.

“Still getting off on intimidating peasants, I see.”

“Still loving a grand entrance, I see.”

We stare at each other for a moment and if I had a heart it would possibly beat faster now and I would experience some form of joy because I am actually home. Alas, a smirk and a raised eyebrow will have to do, and it is returned in kind by my favorite dauntless. Which I would never tell him, his ego is inflated enough already.

“Looks like you just won me a lot of points, Mina.”

For Eric he sounds almost gentle, with only a minimum of sarcasm and a dash of amusement in his voice. I briefly wonder if he was affected by the news of my death at all, but I know him too well. It was probably extra terrible to land on his shit list for a couple of weeks, by breathing wrong or walking by too close.

“I leave you alone for a couple of weeks and you turn into a gambling man? What has this place come to! Are we doing group hug sessions now every Friday?”

For a moment we both go quiet and I am sure that we are supposed to hug now, or smile or break out into a little dance number. But we just stare, I for my part even enjoying it because there aren’t many people who would even dare to hold his gaze, and the same thing can be said about me. Finally he takes a few steps forward, closing the distance between us and leaning his forehead against mine for just a moment. We are both not feeling the need for any form of PDA and anything else along those lines, that is for the mushy idiots, the pussies and emotional people, which is all the same anyway. Mutual respect is the highest form of affection we are capable of and comfortable with, and that is all I need to know. 

“I am looking forward to a hot shower, some food and a few hours of sparring. Not necessarily in that order.”

He lifts an eyebrow at me and smirks. I’m still looking better put together than the majority here and I spent weeks in captivity, fighting my way through a horde of idiots and then crawling across the city before a patrol found me. There is dust in my hair, the left side of my head needs shaving and I would kill for clean underwear. Not that I normally wouldn’t.

“Code’s still the same. You might want to check in and tell everyone else you’re alive.”

With a huff of indignation I step back and glare at him, he has to ruin all my fun. I was planning on roaming the halls for a few weeks, thoroughly scaring the shit out of everyone that knows me, especially those that never liked me. Which, admittedly, are quite a few. Not as many as Eric can boast about, I have never been in a position to be able to make quite as many enemies, but I am close. Was. Am. I am back, I should remember that.

Stifling a grin he pats my shoulder and turns me toward the door behind him. As I turn a guy behind me catches a glimpse at my face, drops something and curses. I turn and start running at him with a loud wail and he, completely shocked and confused, starts running. The look of pure amusement on Eric’s face is almost worth behaving like an idiot and I allow myself a half smile before straightening my coat and heading back towards the door.

“I think I almost missed having you around.”

With a snort I walk past him, clipping him in the shoulder on the way. The only things he missed were my body and the fact that he had someone on his level around that would get his moods and his thought processes, that is all.

“Your dick missed me, I’m sure.”

He doesn’t respond to that, and as I walk through the narrow and dark corridor I can hear him barking orders at the poor saps outside and it just might be one of the sweetest things I have ever heard.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, after a very exhausting meeting with the leaders and a long and entirely unnecessary retelling of my adventures, I find myself keying in the familiar code to Eric’s place. There is a spot for me in one of the guest rooms because I have never been around for too long, but it is a long standing tradition that I spend most of my nights here. The lights are out and everything is quiet, so I make my way to the bathroom after taking off my boots and coat and placing them by the door, neatly because anything else would make it impossible for me to relax. Always be ready to leave, always have a strategy. The fact that I am willing to even take off my knives and guns around here says a lot about Eric, if there is anyone in this world that I would trust to an extent it would be him.

This is why I decide to not only take a shower, generously applying his soap twice, but also draw a hot bath afterwards because after being dead for four months I am pretty sure I’m entitled to a little smidge of luxury, and it’s his place so I’m not worried about wasting his resources, he can afford it. While the tub slowly fills I make my way around, grateful for the fact that he is such a neat person, because I could find my way to his liquor stash blindfolded. With a bottle of very good whiskey and his backup pack of cigarettes I make my way back to the bathroom, picking up a lighter and an ashtray on my way. I am naked and my hair is leaving a fine trail of water droplets all over his floors, which I’m sure will irritate him to no end. I grin and leave the door open before I submerge myself in what feels like boiling hot water, not even thinking about leaving before I have smoked half of the pack and drank at least a quarter of the bottle.

When the door opens I tense, but I know full well that the number of people who can even access his place is extremely low, yet I only relax after I heard his low grumble that is telling me he is annoyed but also vaguely amused. He must have seen the water trail I left him while he took off his boots. Like the trail of breadcrumbs in that old story, just a lot better.

“One could think you owned this place.”

There he is, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. I can’t say I’m not enjoying the sight, a few months among Factionless and corpses does things to a woman’s standards, but there has only ever been one who came close to not boring me and mostly pissing me off in the good kind of way. He is currently raking his gaze up and down my body, and I’m not sure what he is thinking because I must look terrible. Battered and bruised, what I lost in weight I gained in scars. Not pretty, but we are soldiers, we are not supposed to be beautiful. Supposed to I say, because this little shit had to go against the grain.

“If I owned this place it wouldn’t be such a mess.”

The smile I bestow on him almost reaches my eyes, I can feel it, but it is also meant to provoke him. I need to test the waters, to see how, or if at all, things have changed in these few months. Maybe he found himself a nice little wife he keeps in a different apartment because being around others constantly is too much, or maybe he and Four finally acted on all that pent up tension. My smile turns into a smirk and he raises an eyebrow, his gaze still cold. Our greeting was downright emotional, but now we’re back at the beginning, cautiously staring at each other, neither of us willing to take the first step because that means exposing yourself and could be considered a weakness.

Finally I sigh and get up, letting the water cascade off my body for a moment before reaching for a black towel I put out, carefully stepping over the edge of the tub and beginning to dry myself thoroughly, right in front of him. Cold fingers suddenly dig into my hips, pulling me backwards and against him. We don’t say a single word, don’t even make a sound, but I turn around and launch myself at him so hard that he stumbles backwards and into the wall. His hands are all over my back, my hair, my ass, while I wrap my legs around him like a vise and take great pleasure in destroying his carefully made up hair.  I was the first one to openly laugh at him and survive and it was this haircut that caused my outburst. I like it, sort of, even though I don’t and it’s none of my business anyway.

We don’t kiss, we never have, it is a ferocious attack of lips and tongues and teeth, biting and sucking and licking. Even this turns into a competition, to see who could win the upper hand. Ever since we met, while he was an initiate and I had to wait another damn year, we have been at each other’s throats both literally and figuratively speaking. No matter what competition we ended up in, it was always just too close to call unless one of us decided to play dirty and distract the other in every way possible, which is always. The first time we fucked - and there is no other word to accurately describe it - we were sparring, he had me pinned, I managed to headbutt him, he tried to choke me and I kicked him in the balls - this is our kind of foreplay.

Nobody said any of this is “healthy”.

There is blood on my lips and I’m not sure if it’s his or mine, and it’s really not important either way. We will both be walking around covered in scratches and bruises tomorrow, slightly smug and knowing full well that everyone can see, everyone knows and yet nobody dares to say a thing because we are both known to be very calm and reasonable humans.

That thought makes me chuckle against his throat and he growls, the first noises we made so far.

“Something funny there?”

“Yeah, your face.”

His hand tangles in my black hair and pulls my head back, he is not in the mood for some banter on the intellectual level of five year olds, and that’s okay. This is something that developed over time, we blow off some steam, destroy a piece of furniture or two, then comes the playful part. One time he chased me around the training room for half an hour, a fact that got him into a fight with Four the next day when he was complaining about having to watch that on the surveillance footage. It wasn’t so much the fact that we were naked and clearly having a lot of sex that bothered Eric, but the fact that Four saw him laughing and tickle me into submission. It was a one time lapse of judgement on our parts that never happened again after and we keep that private.

Eric wraps a thick strand of my hair around his hand and pulls, hard, making my scalp burn. With a growl I lash out and manage to leave three welts on his cheek, right under his eye. 

 "I thought you were fucking dead, Mina.“

That growl nearly drives me insane. It’s always a back and forth, a struggle for dominance we both know we won’t win, and I for my part have no interest in that happening in the first place. I’d be bored within minutes. I’m not one of those in our faction that go around screwing everyone in sight, and neither is he, as far as I know. There is no need to be physically close to anyone, just a search for release every now and then. He understands that and that’s what makes this work. That and the fact that he knows where my buttons are, and I know his.

“Excuse me for getting jumped by ten people while your precious soldiers ran away like little babies,” I snarl, biting down on his neck, hard. He has the advantage right now because I was in the tub, he is wearing an obscene amount of fabric that is in my way. With some acrobatics I lean back to reach under me and open his belt with one hand, he does absolutely nothing to help me but watches closely, smirking. I’ll get to wiping that off his face in just a moment. The very practical standard issue tactical pants are open and pushed down within moments and I tug down the elastic of his boxer briefs just enough to free his cock, not willing to waste any more time.

Using my legs I push myself up against his body and let gravity do the rest, dropping down again and slamming down onto him. It brings him back to the living and his smirk turns into a snarl, his fingers digging into my hips again. Eric pushes himself off the wall and starts to walk out of the bathroom while I dig my nails into his shoulders, pushing myself up and letting myself fall, at a slow and intense pace.

When I look at his face I can tell that something is off, that this doesn’t work for him as it usually does. It takes a few moments to sink in, but we’re so much alike that it’s sometimes hard to remember that we don’t share all the same thoughts and whatever little emotions we allow to seep through. Eric needs to be in control at all times, he hates feeling helpless as much as I do. And I, even though I can hardly be blamed for this, made him feel exactly that. I got myself captured and killed, that’s what everyone assumed, and there was nothing he could do. Eric might not care for me in a traditional way, but we have been doing this since my initiation four years ago. In some capacity I became a part of his life and I had the audacity to take that away from him. There will be hell to pay for the Factionless, but if I want this to survive he needs to feel like he put things right.

So I struggle to free myself from the confinement of his arms and am rewarded with a frown. If he thinks even for a moment that I’m giving him the upper hand he won’t like it. Letting myself fall backwards with my full body weight I loosen his grip and he snarls, trying to grab my wrist but I twist my arm away from him. In a flash I’m on my feet and pretending to walk away from him, but he wraps his arm around my waist and slams me into the sink. The vanity mirror gives me a great view of him and I meet his scowl with a wicked grin.

“You fucking crazy bitch.”

It takes about two seconds for him to force my legs apart and slam into me, making my hips collide with the cold porcelain. Eric pounds me relentlessly and I moan, even louder when he pulls my hair, twisting my head to the side. His eyes never leave mine in the mirror, his teeth are bared and he is spitting out curses with every thrust, insulting me and cursing my entire damn existence through his teeth. My body is covered in bruises from my restraints, my captors and my escape and Eric is adding more with each snap of his hip, each hard grip. But these new ones I won’t mind. The hand gripping my hip vanishes and comes down on my ass, hard, and my hiss elicits a chuckle. It’s a menacing sound, cold and cruel, but it goes straight to my core and makes my muscles tighten. I look at my own face in the mirror, flushed and blissful under scratches and bruises, and when I look at him again I feel my walls clench down tight. One last smirk from him and I unravel with a high pitched keen that is far beyond any words. Eric stares at me, watches me coming undone before he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Pushing deep into me he stills and I feel him come inside me with a low growl. His eyes fly open and the intensity makes my knees buckle. Panting I try to pull myself up but my muscles seem to fail me after the hot bath and exercise. Eric watches me for a moment, then he picks me up and carries me to his bedroom.

“Maybe I missed you a little after all.”

The murderous glare he shoots my way hasn’t worked a single time in all these years, but I appreciate the effort.

“Shut up and sleep, Mina.”

He positively throws me onto the mattress and stalks out of the room, by the time he returns with the first aid kit everyone here has at home I’m almost asleep and pretend not to notice how he starts to treat my wounds in a way that could almost be described as gentle.


	2. Just one of those days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have another chapter because I feel generous and such. Knowing myself as the flighty bitch that I am I will not commit to any regular update schedule but know that there are at least 7 chapters for now and there will be at least 4 after that. And I've been contemplating a prequel, depending on how things go with this.
> 
> Still don't own anything, insert witty and incredibly lewd comment about owning Eric or Jai Courtney right here.

We sleep with our backs to each other. It is still somewhat disconcerting to have somebody that close during that time when you completely let your guard down, when you are at your most defenseless. To let them see you vulnerable. Even though I was born Dauntless and knew everyone in my initiation class I slept very little during that time, all those people in the same room made me uneasy. I never asked Eric about how it was for him, being with the traditionally even more competitive transfers, we don’t talk about this sort of thing very often. Or anything, really. We are both not fans of sharing anything too personal and enjoy the fact that neither of us is pressing for that, we are too much alike not to understand the fundamental things.

But our mutual agreement extended to sleeping together at some point and we settled into a routine. More often than not I am gone, visiting other factions or herding the dumb sheep guarding the fence. Luckily we don’t have much out there to worry about or we would most definitely be doomed. When I finished initiation I was first in my class - naturally - and at that time the open leadership position had just been filled by Eric, but Max had insisted on running me through the apprenticeship nonetheless, because we are Dauntless and when it comes to positions it never hurts to have a spare for everything. We do tend to die rather suddenly.

So I never bothered to have an actual place at the compound because I’m gone more often than not and if I am around for a few days they give me a small room tucked away somewhere that is not occupied. I’m not complaining, I like being outside instead of being stuck behind a desk most of the time, signing forms and going through reports until my eyes bleed. Eric doesn’t find that funny, but I do.

It never takes long for us to find each other, he is not always outside overseeing a delivery but he is a leader and as such privy to whatever goes on in the compound, I’m pretty sure that he has instructed the people working in the control room to alert him when I arrive, or he has developed a sixth sense for my presence. I know which one I’m inclined to believe.

So more often than not I end up in his apartment and his bed, our backs turned to each other because even when we sleep we are ready to be attacked and trust each other more than we would some random intruder. Our guns are on our nightstands and there is a knife under my pillow, he has various weapons stashed away all over the place and we both know where to find them; the day he showed me was the day I knew this was a little more serious than our usual romps would indicate. Or mine at least, he doesn’t like having to kick out some half drunk floozy and is usually nowhere near the partying crowds that can be seen around Dauntless at any given night, I don’t know if he has an arrangement similar to ours with someone else. And I don’t really want to find out. Because I don’t care, of course. There is no reason to put more into this than either of us is willing to give, the line is very firmly drawn and we move around behind it with practiced ease.

Usually we don’t touch, just lie close enough that I can feel the heat radiate off his body. There is a lot of that to go around and I lie here, in the middle of winter, sweating as if it was summer. Maybe I’m just not used to it anymore, I have spent quite some time in the cold, musty basement of an abandoned building when the factionless held me captive.

That is probably why I can’t sleep, too. I’m tired, my body is pleasantly exhausted after Eric put me through several rounds of what you might want to call reunion sex, but my mind is too busy working through things to shut off, and that’s not exactly unusual. What’s unusual is his foot hooked over my leg as if he is anchoring me to his bed. We never touch, we don’t cuddle, we are not that kind of person at all. There is no excessive PDA, maybe a look or two when we are going about our days, never this. I wonder if it’s because he thought I was dead and can’t quite believe I am here. Neither can I, I’m not exactly a quitter but I figured my chances of survival were somewhere at the very low end of the scale.

“Stop thinking so fucking loud Mina, I want to sleep.”

His voice is gruff and muffled by the pillow and I’m surprised he’s awake at all. Moments ago his breathing was even, a soft snore every fifth breath or so, like usual. But maybe that wasn’t moments ago, I was busy reliving the torture I have been through in vivid details, for all I know it could have been hours. I don’t reply, instead I punch my pillow into a more acceptable shape, huff and reach for my gun. Somehow I feel better holding it. There is some rustling behind me and the mattress shifts, I feel Eric closer now and his breath is on my neck. He’s probably frowning at the gun in my hand. Although he hasn’t been through anything like this I know he’s had his fair share of moments he doesn’t like to relive and it is yet another thing we both understand about each other. Finally he grunts and plunks down right behind me, his body curling around mine without quite touching. It feels kind of nice and I drift off eventually.

The next morning comes way too soon but I am up bright and early, there will be a meeting with Max first thing. I picked the day before the Choosing of all days to return, so Max already had a full schedule, we have to meet at five in the morning and I know how much it delights him. To say that he is not a morning person is putting it lightly, it is usually best not to speak to him before noon, provided he has had enough coffee. Eric is still behind me when I wake up, our legs are tangled and he has his arm wrapped around me tightly. When I try to get out of his grip he chuckles, still half asleep but alert enough to know what is happening.

“Do you want me to tell Max you’re the reason why I’m late?”

There is another chuckle as he stretches, pressing himself even closer to me and I quietly mourn the lack of time to take advantage of the situation. But I need another shower if I don’t want to walk around smelling like sex and Eric, although he probably wouldn’t mind that at all.

With a low grumble he rolls onto his back and I know he is watching me carefully as I get up and walk into his bathroom, not bothering to cover up. There is nothing he hasn’t seen plenty of times already, including the plethora of scars all over my body. Eric has spent some time discovering them all, just like I know all of his. Including the one in his upper thigh where a fellow initiate stabbed him during training. Tom barely made it through stage two and is now one of the fence guards. I make sure to treat him with utmost respect whenever I’m out there, last time he looked like he was about to fling himself right off the high structure just to get away from me. But like everyone else he doesn’t dare to call me a bitch to my face.

Those who do dare it usually regret it within moments.

When I make my way up to the leader offices it is eerily quiet, the occasional guard on patrol nods at me in that distant way that is supposed to be respectful and has long ago been deemed the safest way to interact with those of us that are somewhat mercurial. I simply sip my coffee and ignore them, it is too early to even think about acknowledging lower life forms, and it will always be too early for that. With a disgruntled sigh I knock and all I get as a response is a growl. Max is exceptionally chipper this morning.

“Mina,” he says once I drag myself through the door in a spare uniform I found somewhere in Eric’s closet, the advantage of our arrangement. Because most of my things have been discarded after they declared me dead, only a few things survived and those were all in his apartment. I actually feel sorry for everyone that will have to put up with me when I buy new clothes today. It’s surprising that Max can even articulate yet.

“Can we get to the point, I have absolutely no clothes and no place and there are about a million other things I have to take care of to make me not dead today.” Like get my keycard activated again, yell at someone until my points are back in my deleted account so I can buy underwear. All the fun things. Max actually sort of grins at me.

“It’s nice to have the full set again. I think. Spencer is retiring, which means there is a leadership position opening up. I know I will regret having both you and Eric in leadership positions, but you are by far the most qualified for this job. I’m actually considering letting you train the initiates with Eric and Four this year, you did very well when you had to fill in with our last batch after that unfortunate incident.”

I almost choke on my coffee. None of this is really unexpected, except the last part. Four is one of the very few people in Dauntless that I get along with, but everyone with half a brain cell that hasn’t spent the last few years curled up at the bottom of the chasm knows that Eric and Four get along as well as Erudite and Abnegation. Except that the factions never beat the shit out of each other, as far as I know, which is the unfortunate incident from last year Max is talking about.

“So are you just going to scare off the initiates that don’t get killed? I thought that we actually need new members? It helps prevent all the side effects of inbreeding, you know.”

Still holding my coffee I peek at him over the rim of my mug, the one that Eric wordlessly shoved at me after my shower in an almost domestic kind of scene this morning, it was surreal. What’s even worse, I don’t mind at all. Maybe it’s because I’ve been so thoroughly beaten and hit in the head more often than I can count but coming back to that wasn’t half bad. Neither is the prospect of watching the burning trainwreck that two of the most ambitious men in Dauntless training a bunch of transfers will be. There is only one problem.

“I’m not going to be stuck doing all the shit jobs, right? Because if I will have to do budgets and trade reports for the next five years I will shoot everyone.”

Max winces and takes a sip of his coffee. He knows me too well to think that that will entice me to take his offer. The ambassador position I kind of filled as an interim solution ended up being a lot more fun than I had thought and it required about a quarter of the paperwork that the leaders are constantly buried under. And absolutely nobody wanted that job in the first place, so I didn’t have to put up with little shits trying to usurp me.

“You’ve been through leadership training so you know what to expect. Your points are being restored as we speak and your new papers will be ready this afternoon. Tori will be at the shop at seven to do your tattoo. The only problem I see is that we don’t have any living space available on that level, but I spoke to Eric about that yesterday. Until something frees up you could stay with him, or choose to stay in one of our guest rooms,” he finishes with a smirk. Half of Dauntless isn’t quite convinced that Eric and I aren’t siblings, the rest considers us a match made in hell. Max is firmly in the second camp and has been trying to push us together for years, something about the ideal Dauntless couple and how great it would be to send us off to meetings with other factions. I think if he’d had his way we would have been busy producing a blond little Dauntless army but if I was into breeding livestock I would have defected to Amity.

With a scowl I attempt to stare him down, but I’m afraid it’s way too early even for me to be at full capacity, and I’m a morning person. Something about everyone else looking miserable puts me in a very good mood.

“So I basically don’t have a choice, that’s the gist of it.” He smiles at me and I feel the sudden urge to wipe his desk with his face. Sure, at some point I wanted this. And getting to oversee training sounds like the most fun I’ve had with my clothes on in years. Eric has been doing it for two years now and I got to accompany them on their nice little field trips, the last group of initiates still shivers whenever someone mentions war games. And the idea of traipsing around outside is less than appealing for now.

“I guess.” It could use at least a little enthusiasm, but Max obviously doesn’t care. Shuffling a few papers around he gets up with an almost genuine smile and shoves a few papers at me to sign along with a new phone.

“I will make an announcement this morning before I head to the ceremony. By now everyone has heard about your return so they’ll be lingering around the mess hall anyway.”

I roll my eyes. What a bunch of gossiping shitheads.

An hour later I meet Tori at the shop, it’s only six but I saw her up so I figured why wait. She asks me where I want the leadership marks, we get to choose the spot but it has to be visible, so my suggestion to put them on my ass is not met with approval. She lightly touches my neck and looks at me with a smirk. Yes, let’s fuel the secret twins rumors please. I’m not getting them in the same spot as Eric.

Both our eyes travel to the side of my head, the hair has gotten longer there because captivity didn’t include regular haircuts, but it’s still relatively short. I smirk, Tori grins and begins to rifle through several drawers to find a razor.

That’ll do.

 

That tattoo gave me the worst headache ever, but I am determined not to let it show when I stand up on the ledge wedged between Max and Eric three hours later in my new uniform. Max is waxing somewhat poetically about our faction, it’s values and being brave in the face of everything this shitty world throws at us. Something similar happens every year on Choosing Day so I don’t pay much attention to any of it until I notice Eric staring at me. I roll my eyes at him and he smirks, eyes briefly darting to the freshly shaved and tattooed side of my head. Then Max interrupts our little moment by announcing my promotion and the people cheer because it’s what’s expected of them, not because they’re happy. Dauntless never ignore an opportunity to be loud and annoying, so this is what they do.

 

After some down time, which I used to move into my new office and tackle some paperwork, hooray, I make my way to the rooftop to greet our new initiates. Eric is already up there, basking in the bright sunlight, ignoring a handful of members that have tagged along to get a first glimpse at our potential newbies. We all stay uncharacteristically quiet until the train shows up and a jumble of kids come tumbling out. The black ones land relatively steady and come jogging over, there are specs of black and white and blue that have a hard time getting the landing right, and even some red and yellows. And a single person in grey. Huh. The first suicidal Stiff since Four, it seems.

They never learn.

Eric steps onto the edge of the building to hold another little speech, sneering at the newcomers as if they were something dirty he found under his boot. I’m right beside him, on the ground, my feet wide and my arms crossed. There is a lot of apprehension and a few smirks that I can’t wait to wipe off their smug little faces. I hear Eric saying my name and focus on what is going on again, glaring at the crowd in front of us. When Eric says I will be helping with their training a few Dauntless borns become agitated, elbowing each other and making faces that are anything but excited. I smirk. Good.

“Apologies for not staying dead, initiates. I’ve visited hell and they decided that I’m not someone they want to be around. The following weeks will be determining your future, I suggest you take this opportunity and give it your best. Even if your best isn’t good enough.”

Eric steps off the ledge and looks at me, clearly amused. “And they say I’m terrible at motivating the initiates,” he stage whispers, the first three rows of kids can definitely hear us. “Well, if they want coddling they picked the wrong fucking faction, didn’t they.” We smirk at each other and wait for the first kid to gather their wits and jump. It will be a long day.

 

The first training session is a complete disaster. The transfers start in the morning while Lauren has her Dauntless kids assemble guns until they pass out in another room. Four is trying to be somewhat friendly, by our standards, and he obviously has a lot more patience than I do. But I’m not really convinced that his approach alone will make them realize just what is at stake here, even though they were told that they wouldn’t all make it yesterday during the great tour. I made sure to let them know that absolutely everything they do during training will be factored into their ranking, yet here they are, behaving like a bunch of toddlers. Actually, we have a daycare a few floors above us full of toddlers that could knock out at least half of these transfers within minutes.

I walk around, watching all of our transfers fail miserably, but there are a few that look like they will pick up sooner than others. After a while I’ve had enough and I step in and give them pointers, ignoring Eric and his raised eyebrow.

“This dummy will have enough of your fumbling and punch you right back. This isn’t a date initiate, you’re not trying to get to third base. That’s not a punch, that is ridiculous.”

The guy is the tallest of his group, a transfer from Amity if I remember correctly. Yet here he is, barely making an impact. If he can’t even hit an inanimate object I have my doubts that he will be able to punch a fellow initiate. Eric saunters around the room looking like someone just gifted him a lifelong supply of chocolate cake. Or bourbon, in his case. Not much of a sweet tooth. He thoroughly enjoys watching me bark at the kids. Who knew this would be so much fun? But someone has to push them, Four might think that his way of training them is encouraging, but we will never get anywhere if we hold their hands and talk about our feelings.

The Dauntless born are an entirely different story. Lauren pairs them off and has them spar right away, they have all had plenty of practice growing up. Two of ours defected this year, to Amity of all places. Well, good riddance. They all seem a little bored, but know enough about the process to at least attempt participation. Everyone but Lou. He is just an inch taller than me but equipped with the usual broad shoulders and muscle mass. Unfortunately he has spent all his time lifting weights and very little on actual sparring, because that muscle might be intimidating but it won’t hold up against a reasonably skilled fighter. Even the Stiff could beat him after a few weeks. His girlfriend is reasonably pretty but I doubt she would be able to count to ten if her life depended on it. In their minds they reign supreme and they know absolutely everything.

“We know all of this already.” Instead of sparring with his assigned partner he is standing on the mat, arms crossed and looking directly at me. Lauren is at the other end of the room, criticizing two initiates that look like they are hugging it out at the moment. He obviously waited for his chance to try and goad me, what a precious little guy he is.

“Is that so? Why don’t I send word to Max that he is being replaced by someone that knows everything, while we’re at it. Do as you’re told, initiate.”

As expected, he doesn’t move even an inch. I feel Eric watching us, but there is no way that he would step in here, he knows what would happen to him if he did. A few of his scars are mine and I know every single one of them and why exactly he deserved them, I’m sure he does too.

“Why did they even make you a leader? Aren’t you just Eric’s sister that he can’t stop fucking?”

My day has officially been made. Smiling I step closer, and the guy he is supposed to spar with has the wits about him to back away from Lou. There is no need for me to pose all intimidating, I’ve never felt the need to do that. After I established my reputation that was more than enough to have people react a certain way, it seems that someone needs a reminder.

“I’m sure that you are fully capable of beating me in a fight then.”

That guy lights up instantly, since I gave him what he wanted so willingly. Unfortunately bravery doesn’t cancel out stupidity, we often get those that are reckless to the point of being suicidal, and this guy right here is a prime example. It seems that his girlfriend is the brains of the operation after all.

Kicking off my boots - I will not have anyone say I had an unfair advantage - I make my way into the ring and I can hear Eric shout at the other initiates to ‘watch and learn’. I shoot him a quick look and snort, because we both know exactly what is to be learned here.

“Go ahead, initiate,” I all but sing at him, inviting him to throw the first punch. And he does, throwing all his weight into it, counting on me to just stand there and take it. He probably won a few fights against his peers like that. His right fist hits nothing but air because I duck, lazily and slow, punching him in his ribs that he left completely exposed, and follow up with a swift kick to the stomach. He doubles over and I slam my elbow into the back of his neck. With a loud thud he falls onto the mat and I lightly press my foot against his cheek.

“Thirty seconds,” Eric announces loudly, sounding bored as can be.

“I’m shocked. My injuries are no excuse for being this slow.”

Everyone stares at me and I shrug.

“Now that all of you have been reminded of just how much there is still left to learn… go back to your assignment. Never be this cocky, never rely on just one single strength to get you out of a fight. If you are quick, build up your strength and vice versa. We are not just looking for brute strength here at Dauntless, muscles don’t make you brave. You won’t get out of a real fight alive like…this,” I finish, waving my hand dismissively at the guy on the floor. They scurry back to their stations and I spot Lauren trying to hide a grin behind what is probably supposed to be a scowl in my direction for beating her trainee.

Eric is busy looking at his stupid phone while I pull on my boots, tapping away at something. Without looking up he turns in my direction and motions for me to follow him. I wasn’t aware that it was time for the meeting we have with a few other leaders yet, although they do say that time flies when you’re having fun. But he walks straight to his office instead, making it perfectly clear what’s on his mind.

As soon as I walk through the door he slams me into the wall right next to it and his lips are on mine before I had the chance to breathe. There was no real rush in taking that initiate down a few pegs, that wasn’t a real fight. But I know that a certain someone enjoys seeing me like that, asserting my dominance and matching his apparent cruelty. I bite his lower lip when he tries to kiss me and Eric responds with a growl. As if on cue we both move simultaneously to pull off our shirts, I’m still pinned to the wall by his hips, which makes the removal of my pants a lot more difficult.

Just as I’m undoing my belt there’s a frantic knock on the door right next to us and Eric exhales through his nose, looking ready to kill whoever tries to interrupt us.

“Eric, two of the transfers are trying to kill each other down in the pit.”

I’m a little surprised that there aren’t two holes burned into the door at this point, I have accepted that some cosmic asshole has decided we are not doing this right now and try to wiggle away from him to pick my shirt up off the floor - but Eric is having none of it.

“Get Four, that’s his problem,” he snarls and bends forward to attack my neck with his teeth, determined not to give up. Did I mention that he doesn’t like giving up? I push him away roughly and glare at him. We can’t let those kids kill each other just because he wants to get his dick wet.

“Four is already down there. It’s about to turn into a brawl.”

Eric looks at me, mutters a few choice words, and picks up his vest and shirt. I grin and slap his ass as he bends down, which elicits another low growl from him. And his angry look is just the icing on the cake because it doesn’t intimidate me but sends a deliciously hot jolt of electricity right between my legs.

“Welcome to Dauntless leadership. Don’t expect to have any time for anything for the next decade or so,” he mutters before he storms out, his shirt not quite on, and almost barrels over the poor girl that was sent to get him. I saunter out right after him, looking forward to breaking up that fight and then fucking Eric until his eyes roll to the back of his head, I don’t care if the entire city is burning down around us.


	3. Going Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own anything, aside from some very impressive debt so COME AT ME. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for the kudos and for taking the time to read this little fic! This is a shorter chapter but there is smut so I guess it almost makes up for it?

It’s astonishing how the initiates behave like blind monkeys in a ball pit during training but seem to be able to do just fine when they get into a fight while unsupervised. Two boys, Erudite and Candor, are busy reconstructing their faces when we walk in and for once Eric has to shove his way through the crowd instead of watching it part for him. Nobody really breaks up fights here unless it’s getting too close to losing a member over a cup of chocolate pudding, but these aren’t members, they’re initiates. There is no emotional attachment whatsoever and the morbid curiosity we all have has time to shine. Humans are extremely fucked up, if you think about it, I had months to reflect on that.

I grab the Erudite by the hair and yank his head down while simultaneously kicking the legs out from under him so I can straddle his back, pinning his arms down with my knees. Thanks to the shock of someone actually knowing how to hurt him he doesn’t put up much of a fight, even after he is pinned and had time to process what I did to him. It gives me plenty of time to watch Eric handle the Candor, who is so in the zone that he’s trying to take on a Dauntless leader. Again, we seem to get not only the brave but also the reckless and that usually equals stupidity. Eric sighs, dodges a sloppy punch with barely any effort and draws his fist back to knock the guy out with a punch to the face. And he didn’t even put much weight behind the movement, which in turn doesn’t help the fact that I am still soaking wet. Moments like this fascinate me because he is always so calm and controlled but if you look closely you can see the turmoil behind his eyes. Not just controlled anger, which is a beautiful sight to behold all on it’s own. He would have been a perfect Erudite and sometimes I do wonder how he ended up here, in spite of the obvious embodiment of what Dauntless now stands for. And why that Matthews woman was so interested in him. Still is. 

Maybe I’ll ask him one day.

After I’m done beating the shit out of him for leaving it up to me to figure out why the hell those two were fighting, he has to go visit his old faction and cozy up to their leader. During my time as ambassador I only had two official visits to the brainy faction, both things Eric couldn’t be bothered with. The other times he took care of matters and I have to say that I wasn’t really eager to deal with that woman - she doesn’t like me, and the dislike is mutual. She once alluded to me being a possible distraction for him and she does not appreciate any kinks in her well manicured plans. I laughed at her and left, because there is absolutely nothing on this forsaken planet that can stop Eric once he is set in motion. It’s one of the things I admire about him.

“So,” I spit, walking in front of the Candor with my hands folded behind my back, which seems to be an automatic leader gesture, “care to enlighten me why you thought it would be a good idea to try and murder your fellow initiate? A very pathetic attempt, may I add, but one nonetheless.”

The Candor is still beyond pissed, which is why I decided to interrogate him first, while the anger is still fresh. Once he had time to cool down and the anger turned sour he’ll just turn into a sarcastic little shit and I really don’t feel like slapping him around much today. I’m saving that for Eric.

“He was talking shit about my sister,” he growls and I stop in my tracks, unable to keep myself from shooting him an incredulous look. What exactly is it about faction before blood that these morons don’t understand? Every damn year someone is howling about their damn family like they’re all special little babies that don’t actually have to listen to a single damn thing we have been telling them and it drives me insane. This faction is far from perfect but if these inbred degenerates come in and refuse to even try we might as well throw in the towel and pick up a nice little retirement hobby. Maybe Eric can crochet or do a little bit of woodwork. I know he’d tell me he has some wood for me to work on because all men are secretly twelve.

But back to the task at hand. I chew the guy out for his transgressions and leave him to the kitchen staff for some serious cleaning duties, I know that the place needs it badly. The Erudite fucktard can go clean toilets across the compound and that leaves me facing a wall of reports when I get back to my office. I could swear I heard Max giggle through the door of his office. He’s dead.

It’s way past ten and I’m in the middle of a little cardio on the living room floor when I hear the door. I’m not even bothering to acknowledge his presence because I’m still pissed, but if there’s something Eric hates it’s being ignored. Or disrespected. Or losing. Or people who lack ambition. Meatloaf Fridays. The list could go on and on.

I’m on all fours, pumping my right leg up and down in spite of the way my body screams at me. Pain can go suck it, I will win this. A different kind of pain digs into my hips and pulls me back against him, which is his way of demanding my undivided attention. I snarl and kick his thigh, which should hurt even though I’m barefoot. With a grunt his grip on my hips tightens and he lifts me up to turn me over, which I gladly accommodate, my legs wrap around his neck and I squeeze my thighs together, trapping his head. If I thought I had him I’m way too cocky and need a reality check, because he grins wolfishly and nips at me, grazing my clit with his teeth through the thin fabric of my shorts.

Using my abdominal muscles I push my upper body upwards, not my best move because my crotch is now pressed right against his face and Eric lazily trails his tongue over the fabric, causing it to soak through in mere moments which admittedly is not all him. My hands lift to yank at his hair but he knows what I’m up to and grabs my wrists, pinning then to my sides. As far as brute strength goes he is always winning, especially right now, and he knows it. Suddenly the world around me tilts and because I was distracted by his mouth I’m not prepared for my impact on the floor. It stuns me for a few moments while I try to breathe and that’s all it takes for him to shred the shorts that I just bought.

With an angry growl I kick at his chest and send him on his ass, he didn’t exactly go flying but that’ll have to do for now. I pounce after him and twist his shirt collar just to cut off the circulation a little. My other hand reaches under me to find his damn zipper but he decided that I had enough time to enjoy myself and stands up, his arm wrapped around me tightly. Before I can bite at his neck more than once he turns me around and holds me in place by wrapping his arm around my throat, so if I struggle too much I’m cutting off all circulation and I can’t breathe. I still twist and kick, he slips his hands beneath my legs, humming appreciatively at the fact that even my thighs are slick and wet by now.

“How come you get so violent and wet at the same time, hm. Almost as if you’re some sick little bitch that gets off on it.”

Eric runs a wet finger over my lips, spreading my own juices across my mouth. I growl and bite his finger, hard, and he chuckles but I can feel his cock twitch where it’s pressed against my ass.

“Takes one to know one,” I grind out between gritted teeth, I’m angry because he so easily pins me, even though I know it’s due to my injuries, lack of training and malnutrition. He seems to really enjoy himself though, I suspect there aren’t that many women who can keep up with him even if they want to. I hear the sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor and it sends a shiver of pleasure through me. That belt has played quite the role in our relationship so far… 

My moment comes when he pulls off his shirt, his grip on me loosens enough for me to twist around and jab him in the ribs. Using my full weight I push him down and he hisses when he tumbles backwards and pulls me with him so I’m straddling his lap. One quick snap of both our hips, perfectly synchronized, and he’s inside me. It’s almost eerie, sometimes, to see how we seem to think the same things, at the same time and then act the same way. It’s probably where the secret twin rumor comes from.

Not willing to give in to him so easily I bury my hand in his hair and yank, wanting to expose his throat to my teeth, but before I can lean forward his hand wraps around my throat and he squeezes. We stare each other down, I’m pulling, he’s squeezing and I rock my hips against his in a frantic rhythm, knowing that the release I’m looking for will be just as violent as this is right now. And oh so satisfying.

My muscles tighten around him and Eric hisses, his grip around my throat slipping slightly. It’s those little moments where his control slips that I’m looking for, that I absolutely fucking live for, because I know that he hates it when it happens. And maybe, just maybe, I’m arrogant enough to firmly believe that I’m the only one that’s capable of doing this to him.

We’re both slick with sweat and my skin slides against his, I let the nails of my free hand rake down his throat since he won’t let me bite him. His hand tightens again and my vision begins to blur around the edges, just slightly. Eric knows exactly how much pressure to use and when to stop, and I hate to admit it but it’s fucking hot. Just a little more and I gasp, I’m not sure if it’s the lack of air or the orgasm that suddenly slams my body out of this world that is responsible for my temporary loss of vision, but I don’t care at all. I want to scream but I can’t, all that comes out around the pressure of his hand is low and strangled and I’m vaguely aware of my nails digging into his throat. As I come down and my tensed up muscles begin to relax so does his hand around my neck and I take a deep, shuddering breath, moaning again as my lungs fill. I look at him, his eyes never left mine for one second since I slid on his cock and I grin, lifting my hand from his neck to my mouth to suck on every single finger to clean them, I did draw a little blood. Eric shudders and grabs my hips, his fingers digging into my bruised flesh once more. He keeps me down and grinds me against him, once, twice, before he stills and bites down on my shoulder with a guttural sound that makes me smile.

Without a word I get up and gather the tattered remains of my clothes, that I just bought by the way, and head for the bathroom, absolutely intending to lock the door on him. I’m still angry at him for disappearing to Erudite once more and for generally being an asshole, even though I can’t really fault him for the latter without being a complete hypocrite.

“Have you been to the infirmary yet?”

To my credit… I manage not to stop dead in my tracks, I manage to hide my shock fairly well and I keep walking away from him.

“You know that I haven’t, you’re keeping tabs on me. I’m going tomorrow, want to come watch them make sure you can’t knock me up?”

Eric mutters something I can’t understand and I roll my eyes, which he can’t see so it’s purely for my own pleasure. What an idiot. I slam the bathroom door shut behind me and make sure to lock it so he can’t follow me into the shower. Serves him right.

I’ll probably pay for it once I get out, but that’s a risk I am more than willing to take.


	4. Going Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and leaving kudos, if I had a heart it might swell and all that.
> 
> Still don't own anything from the Divergent world, except for Mina and you can have her for the low, low price of a large cheese pizza.
> 
> This chapter contains some more violence, just be warned. No actual smut, if you need that warning. Just some plot. I know. Ew.

The next morning is a day off and I wake up half buried under a mountain of hair and muscles - I’m on my back and Eric is half on top of me, his face in the crook of my neck. Even worse, both my arms are wrapped around him and even though my neck hurts I don’t really feel like moving. It’s as if we had this unspoken rule about no touching and since that was broken by a stupid foot hooked over my leg all bets are off now. And I’m not sure if I mind or not. Not yet.

Well, actually, I need to pee and my neck really does hurt like a bitch. Not to mention all the cuts and bruises that are still healing. I try to sort of wiggle out from underneath him, which he immediately reacts to by grinding his hips against me. We are both naked and I can feel him harden against the inside of my thigh.

“Don’t even think about it, I need to get ready for my appointment. You know, the one with the birth control shot.”

Eric grumbles and I realize that this is the second time I’m awake before him. Usually he would be sitting in the kitchen going over paperwork because Mr. Posterboy never takes a day off. It’s beneath him to have a life outside of leadership duties, actually having a life is for peasants, not robots. Although I’m beginning to think that he just didn’t have anything better to do with his time. Maybe.

“Any plans for today?”

The way he lazily stretches and refuses to roll off me admittedly does things to me and I am half resigned to giving in to a different primal urge before leaving the bed. I mean, it wouldn’t be so bad to have a quickie right about now. Except that our quickies aren’t always so quick, at least not when we’re not pressed for time or have to worry about getting caught like that one time in the Pit.

“Going back to bed as soon as they poked me with that needle, probably. I kind of enjoy a bed and sheets and all of that.”

I feel him frown against my skin, we have yet to discuss the finer details of my captivity. Eric wasn’t around for my questioning after I came back. Which is strange, because the other leaders were there, although I suspect that that was not at all coincidental. Either he kept himself away or Max did, for everyone’s safety… And I’m sure he has seen the transcripts, if not the actual video footage they surely kept for posterity. Anyway, I’m not about to discuss that with him, not like this, not ever. Eric bites my neck and I slap his shoulder, feeling him chuckle more than hearing it.

Maybe I’m going soft but this is something I’m not entirely opposed to happening again. But not now. Not when I need to make sure I don’t get pregnant. It’s not technically something I am supposed to be doing, since older Dauntless are supposed to multiply like rabbits unless there is a valid medical reason for it, but given my recent trauma I was granted an extension of that courtesy. Now that I’m a leader there will be more pressure about breeding, something Eric is only vaguely subjected to because he doesn’t have a womb. Funny how that goes, isn’t it.

On my way to the infirmary, one of the first routes most Dauntless memorize along with the training room, dorms and feeding hole, a lackey stops me, looking quite agitated.

“Max needs to speak to you, he’s in the conference room.”

Rolling my eyes I send a quick message to move my appointment to a later time slot for the day and swerve around a few mingling Dauntless to get to the conference room overlooking the stupid Pit. One of the milling people is Four and I briefly nod at him before I realize he is coming in as well. This can’t be good. At all. For a moment I consider kind of rubbing against him, just to see if Eric can smell his arch nemesis on me and if he would react in a way that would be beneficial for myself. Again, angry sex is the best we usually have. At least one of us usually is, anyway.

Instead there is talk about a Factionless problem, a relatively small group has assembled and is moving towards Amity. Apparently they are armed and our guards out there are completely useless, as usual. After just a brief back and forth, Max wanted my input because I was often out there as ambassador, I am voluntold to lead a squad that will go out there, kick some ass, and get shit done. Four strongly protests my involvement because I can “barely hold myself upright” as he said. I raise an eyebrow at him as I glare, with my arms crossed and he mutters something that could be “creepy”. My humble request to get a cape and some theme song blasting as we drive is denied with a stern look, so I go suit up and head out within less than fifteen minutes. There wasn’t any time to inform Eric, which has nothing to do with the fact that he would have come stomping across the compound to physically drag me away from the armored truck and chain me to his bed. I mean, no complaints about the second part, but under different circumstances. I don’t really want to be out there, but safety in numbers, right? Last time I was traveling by myself. Now we’re ten highly specialized and well trained soldiers, what could go wrong.

As it turns out, a lot.

The small gathering with a potential for unrest has quickly morphed into a fairly large mingling of shouting people and quite a few of them are armed and not at all happy to see us. We spread out to circle them, they have congregated in an abandoned warehouse district because of course they did, and we all pull off strategic moves like this in our sleep. That is, unless someone has to piss on our parade. That’s right, piss. This is much more disgusting than mere rain.

“Mina, watch the rooftops, I’m seeing movement up there.”

Four is in one of the trucks, a surveillance unit, keeping track of anything. It has paid off in the past, the Erudites have revived some ancient technology and brought it up to modern standards. So now we have cameras that pick up on body heat that are mobile and zip around overhead, which is nice.

Seconds later I hear the first screams, and the fact that I could put names and faces to those voices that drift over to me through the noise of gunshots is making my stomach turn.

“Take cover, for fuck’s sake!”

I duck into a gaping hole that used to be a loading bay and look around, waiting for the snipers to show themselves. One is dumb enough to show his head and I take him out with my rifle. Killing off my team ruined my already sour mood and I forget about not wanting to be out here, or being the last one standing so they can drag me back to their stupid leader for some more torture. Not gonna happen, not today or ever. Assholes.

“Status report, you fuckers better be alive or I’m going to personally drag you out of hell!”

One after the other they pipe up, two reporting minor injuries, but nothing they can’t walk off. Well, Alex might have some problems with that because the idiot got shot in the leg. Seriously.

After some back and forth we agree to rendezvous at a building just north of this clusterfuck, because at this point I’m not entirely certain that some moron isn’t listening in to our conversations. If the Factionless have guns, who knows what else they have? Most of them weren’t born into this, they bring a mixed bag of knowledge from their Factions of birth with them and Matthews can ramble about her insanely paranoid bullshit all she wants, she can’t tell me that having this disenfranchised group of pissed off people gathered unsupervised somewhere in the city is a great idea. But I’m not stupid enough to think that anyone would listen to me even now, as a leader.

Alex limps in last, held up by Tyler, and we huddle together. We briefly discuss our options when I hear an explosion. Because of course they are blowing shit up now, when has anything ever been easy? The entrance to the building crumbles and we are temporarily blinded by dust. I try to radio Four but communication has been cut off entirely.

Sigh.

We position ourselves along the windows of the first floor, there is a less than trustworthy metal runway along the walls that sways ever so slightly every time one of us moves. The streets are eerily empty and I am pretty sure it will not stay like this for long. We keep the people to our left and right within sight and I communicate my commands via hand signals. If anyone out there is listening they can think we’re dead, it will make putting a bullet through their heads so much more fun. It must be colder than I thought because I’m shaking.

After a little over an hour I give up, I will not sit here and starve for nothing, as tempting as it sounds. I carefully look over the streets below us, a lot of the buildings are nothing but the crumbling remains of the outer walls, so they don’t really provide any shelter. I linger a moment too long and a bullet takes out a chunk of the brick next to my head. Fuckers! But where are they hiding? There is nothing… then it hits me. If you don’t look from the right angle you can’t see it but they built walls in front of walls, from the materials of the crumbling buildings, creating perfect spots for Factionless with guns to hide out without being seen. They planned this!

With a low whistle I get Luke’s attention, he’s to my left, and signal to him. This form of communication has come in so handy way too often for me not to be grateful for hours of barely staying awake trying to learn this shit. I task them all to look for these spots, to count just how many rebels we are dealing with so we can pick them off, one by one. They probably think that we will come out sooner or later, and I almost did walk into my own demise. It’s an unpleasant thought but it helps me fight against the tremors that are still rippling through my entire body.

Maybe I really wasn’t ready for this after all.

Alex is the one that figures out that there is just one post far off on his side so I forgive him for getting shot, he’s making up for it right now. There is no reason for anyone to give me cover, since they obviously don’t have to come out of hiding to shoot us. The exit has been blown to smithereens and the back entrance is blocked from the outside so I have no choice but to leave through a window. There is a halfway intact building right next to ours that is at an angle that ensures that I won’t be seen by all but one of our playmates so I’ll have to take a chance. Leaving my team with detailed instructions I carefully lean out of the window that hasn’t had a glass in it for what looks like decades, and try not to acknowledge the ten foot drop below me.

Heights are a common occurrence in fear landscapes to the point of boring me to tears so I am good.

Trying not to think about smashing to the concrete below and splintering bones I assess the distance once more, take a step back and hurl myself out of the small opening. The roof of the adjacent building makes a less than reassuring sound when I drop onto it, but other than that it is eerily quiet. Those bastards must have heard me, there is no way they haven’t.

So I stay low as I creep across the rubble towards what used to be a skylight, hoping that luck is on my side for once and that there is no glass or rusted shut metal keeping me from sneaking out.

Who would have thought, it used to be a metal trapdoor that is entirely missing. Score one for team Dauntless. There is no ladder anywhere in sight but a pile of gravel underneath that makes the impact almost painless, at least would if you weren’t injured already. I grit my teeth and curse inwardly, that’ll have to do for now. A quick glance at my watch tells me that we have been gone for almost three hours, without radio contact for over two. Eric must be livid.

I duck and approach one of the windows at street level, I should be directly behind the lone outpost on this side, as I peek over the ledge I see a man in Amity jacket and Erudite shirt in his late thirties who falls back when I shoot him between the eyes.

Moments later the building I am taking shelter in is going up in flames and I’m forced to give up my cushy hiding spot. Someone is giving me cover as I sprint across the street, painfully aware of every bone and muscle in my body. Just as I lunge for the remainders of an old car bullets begin to rain down on me and one grazes my shoulder. Cursing loudly I roll behind it, landing on the gritty asphalt with my newly injured shoulder. With a loud scream I get back up and begin walking towards the corner of the street where most of the snipers are hiding, fresh out of fucks.

When I come back to I am looking at about twenty bodies on the way from the car to the square where their group was assembled earlier. Peering around the corner of the dilapidated building I see that the crowd is still there and in a panic, but they can’t go anywhere. I’m in one of four roads leading to the square, two others are effectively blocked by my team, who pick off anyone who decides to come too close. I can’t even begin to formulate just how proud that sight is making me feel right now. They got out of the building and came over here all on their own, brainless soldiers my ass! The fourth access is where they blew up yet another something.

Squinting I look a little closer and realize that they didn’t explode anything. Someone shot a missile into the crowd from an armored truck that definitely did not leave the compound with us.

“The fuck do I care about your technical mumbo-jumbo, Four. Find the right channel, today, or I swear I will add at least six more fears to your landscape.”

That angry snarling suddenly coming through the earpiece is music in my ears, honestly, but he can’t come barging in like some overly territorial mutt every single fucking time I’m leaving the walls of Dauntless. I mean, he’s only done it once but that’s already too much.

“Have you come to undermine my authority, _fellow leader_?”

I can see his head whip around even from a distance and can’t help but grin. Maybe sprinting across the square would be a little too cheesy, but he stalks while I limp so I guess that’s as close as it gets at this point. He grabs me and growls, I laugh and I could swear we even kiss briefly, but there was rubble raining down on my head so I probably just have a concussion. Alex and I are the only ones injured and they drag us, well me, onto the truck Eric came in on and shuttle us back to the compound for some serious medical attention. I sit in the back with Eric, Alex passed out on a gurney a few feet away. It’s hard to ignore the glare that is currently drilling holes into my skull.

“What, Eric,” I finally spit because the whole patience thing has never really worked well for me. “Do you want me to thank you for acting like some crazy idiot just because I went on a mission? You know, we have this awesome, modern gadget they call a phone. You can use it to contact people instead of going into full on idiot mode and blowing up half the city.”

To illustrate my point I pull my phone out of my jacket pocket to wave it in his face. In the process I realize that the screen is black because the battery died. Unfortunately Eric notices, too, and I want to wipe that smirk off his face.

“Now that you know what a phone is let me introduce you to the invention that goes with it, we call it a charger…”

That smirk disappears when my phone hits him in the forehead.

“What the fuck!”

I double over with silent laughter, but then I realize that my ribs are at least bruised, if not broken, and it hurts too much to laugh. So I scowl at him instead, which doesn’t have the desired effect at all. Eric goes serious all of a sudden and grabs me, ignoring my protests, and pulls me onto his lap.

“You seriously need to stop getting yourself in danger like that.”

The armored truck hits a really deep pothole and I hit my head on the roof, making me see stars for just a moment. Eric pulls my head against his shoulder with a surprising lack of force, and I let him. I’m too tired to put up much of a fight anyway,

“Eric, honey, we’re Dauntless. This is what we’re supposed to do.”

That barely audible mumbling that contains more creative swear words than you’d hear during an hour long sparring session at any given time is answer enough, apparently he doesn’t agree with me on that one. We’re supposed to be super awesome super soldiers but this new direction we’re headed in seems to be geared towards mindless numbskulls with big arms. Instead of dignifying that with a response I close my eyes and let the engine noise lull me to sleep. It almost feels as if a hand is gently stroking my head but that’s just my concussion talking.


End file.
